


The Jar™

by calcalore



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 23:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11747862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcalore/pseuds/calcalore
Summary: Red Queen one shot where basically no one can get a jar open and everyone slowly gets more and more annoyed. This takes place sometime in the second half of King's Cage at the scarlet Guard camp. Enjoy!





	The Jar™

A loud thud followed by a distraught “UGH” is what brought Mare into the kitchen that morning.

“Here Gis, I’ll do it,” she says, reaching for the jar that was in her sister’s hand.

Gisa shuts the sink off and lets out another huff. “I swear I’ve been trying to open this for twenty minutes.”

“Oh come on, now your just being dramatic,” she says with a smile.

“Mare calling someone else dramatic?” Kilorn says, walking into the room. “The irony…”

She fixes him with a glare and debated punching him for that. Before she could get violent, she gives the jar a twist and unknowingly started what would be an infamous story for years to come in the Scarlet Guard camp.

“Damn, that IS stuck!”

“Let me try,” the fish boy says.

“No just give me- a second- I almost-”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Kilorn says, laughing at her aggravated expression. “Give it to me.”

Mare scowls, but hands it to him with a sigh.

“All that training with Mr. Perfect Prince and- you can’t even- op- shit.” The lid didn’t budge.

“Ha ha,” she teases.

“Told you,” Gisa sighs.

“Give it to me let me try it ag-” Mare starts to say, but gets cut off by Kilorn.

“Oh, so you want to try to open it after I’VE loosened it and claim MY victory?!”

“You mean after I loosened it!”

“You did no such thing,” Kilorn counters.

Mare grabs the jar from his hands. “Your grip is all wrong anyways.” She gave the lid another twist.

“Smart ass,” Kilorn mutters.

Mare responds by kicking him in the shin.

“OW WHAT WAS THAT-”

“GUYS just give me the jar back I’ll find someon-”

“No!” Mare exclaims. “I almost have it!”

“It hasn’t moved an inch!” Kilorn argues back.

“What’s going on in here?” says Bree, walking into the kitchen in his soldier gear. “Mare, getting violent this early in the morning already?”

“Yes,” Kilorn replies, rubbing his leg and sitting down at the table.

“UGH,” Mare says, still making no progress. She marched over to Bree, who had collapsed at the table, and demands, “Open this.”

Bree gives them all a look. “This is just because you can’t open a JAR?!” He lets out a long laugh. “My colors- maybe you both should have joined the army,” he says, picking up the cursed thing. “I bet then you would- have- you would have- had– the strength-”

Bree practically throws the jar onto the table in annoyance. “I see your point,” he grumbles.

The entire room seems to sigh in defeat.

“If the four of us can’t open it then what do we do?” Kilorn wonders out loud.

“Can’t you just zap the thing Mare!?” Bree offers.

“Mom said no lightning in the house,” Gisa says from the back of the room.

Bree raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I don’t even want to know what she did to warrant that rule.”

“There was a spider,” Mare says with a shrug.

Bree laughs, but then picks up the jar again continues the seemingly-impossible endeavor. “You couldn’t have just stepped on it??”

“I wasn’t wearing shoes!”

Kilorn reaches across the table for the jar. “I want another try.”

Bree sighs. “At this point I just want someone to open the damn thing.”

“Same.”

“Me too.”

Everyone watches with rapt attention as Kilorn attempts, this time with the ends of his shirt, to open the jar.

“Your grip is all wrong,” says Bree.

“Funny, your sister said the exact same thing.”

“Bree’s right. Your hand needs to-”

“Neither of you very successful, so I don’t think you’re in much of a place to correct him,” Gisa says.

“THANK you Gisa. How do you know YOU’RE not both doing it wrong??”

“I’ve opened hundreds of jars in my life, Kilorn. I’ve been a soldier for years. I THINK I know what I’m–”

“What exactly am I walking in on?” says an amused Cal from the doorway. “I knocked, but heard shouting so I came in–”

“OPEN THIS!” they all 4 practically shout at the same time.

Cal puts his hands up in defense. “Wow okay okay. Wait, what exactly am I opening?”

Kilorn begrudgingly hands him the jar.

Cal just sighs. “I didn’t think a jar would cause this much commotion.”

“We’ve all 4 tried opening it,” Mare explains.

“Ah,” he nods. “Well, I’m surprised you haven’t tried zapping the thing yet, Mare.”

Gisa jumps in. “Mom said no powers in the house-”

“I swear, you better have all those muscles for a reason other than impressing your lady, Calore,” Kilorn mumbles. Mare catches it and kicks him again in the other shin.

“-and,” Gisa continues, “I don’t think lightning would actually solve the problem. It would probably just shatter the entire thing.” Kilorn pantomimes an explosion.

“True,” Cal admits.

“Hey! What do you mean shatter?? I have EXCELLENT control of my abilities thank you very much.”

“Except for the spider incident,” Kilorn counters.

“Do you want a third bruise, Warren?” Mare glares back.

“Well this has been fun, but break time’s over and I really must be getting back to my post-” Bree starts to say, but then is suddenly cut off by Cal.

“Shit” he admits, “this IS hard.”

“See?! Let me try again!” Mare says, walking over.

“Damn I really thought Calore had it.” Bree mumbles under his breath. “Guy does a million push-ups all day and can’t even-”

“You’ve been trying for the past ten minutes Mare, nothing has changed!!” Kilorn laughs.

“Can’t you just get another jar?” Cal offers.

“That’s the only one in the entire camp left,” explains Gisa. “But at this point I’m starting to think–”

“Actually, I want another turn!” Bree declares, reaching for the jar in Mare’s hand.

“I thought you said you had to go just now,” Mare eyes him suspiciously, keeping a possessive hold on the jar.

“I DO, but now I just want to see what’s going to get the damned thing open!”

“Can you all PLEASE quiet down?” yells a half-asleep voice from the other room.

“Is that–” Cal starts.

“TRAMY!” the entire room yells, practically tripping over each other to get into the bedroom down the hall.

“What in the name of my colors is goin-” Tramy says with his eyes closed.

“Open this,” Bree demands, handing him the jar.

Tramy groans and pulls the blanket over his eyes. “You woke me up for this??”

“Come on, do it!” urges Kilorn.

“The sooner you open this, the sooner we’ll leave,” bargains Mare.

Tramy sighs, knowing he’ll never win against his stubborn family, and sits up. “The next time one of YOU works the night shift I’m co-” he stops when he sees Cal and throws a hand up. “Why don’t you just have this guy do it?? He’s always doing push-ups everywhere he goes!”

“Oh yeah,” Kilorn points a thumb- “Mr. Muscly Fire Pants couldn’t open it either.”

“Kilorn, do you really have to broadcast that to the entire camp?” Cal says, trying to save his pride.

“Fire pants??” Gisa questions, fighting a laugh.

“Why? Don’t want everyone knowing your weakness is plastic?” Kilorn continues. “If that’s all it takes to overthrow the monarchy then maybe I should let Farley know.”

Mare stifles a laugh, and Cal looks to her in mock betrayal.

“Sorry, it’s not. It’s not funny. It’s a horrible joke in bad taste-”

“Kilorn’s speciality,” Bree comments.

Mare continues, “-but I just really thought you would be able to open it!”

“Can you guys get out of my bedroom now?”

“Not until you open it,” Bree tells him.

“I’ve been trying! It hasn’t budged.”

“It must be glued shut,” Gisa mumbles.

“I think it’s more a wrist thing,” Cal says, still trying to defend his honor. “Not really a matter of brute strength.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, babe,” Mare says, sliding her arm around his waist in the name of a truce.

“Have all of you really tried to open it??”

“Yeah we all suck,” from Kilorn.

“And no one tried running it under hot water?”

“I did!” Gisa says.

“And I’ll admit,” Cal adds, “I may or may not have possibly burned a part of it when I was opening it. Just to see if it would budge.”

“Tsk tsk,” Kilorn replies. “No powers in the house.”

“I think that was only for Mare,” Gisa says.

Mare glares at everyone. “I hate you all.”

Suddenly, they’re interrupted by a loud knock at the front door.

“Great, that’s probably my unit asking where the hell I am,” Bree sighs.

Everyone perks up.

“More people?” Mare says eagerly, and looks up at Cal.

Everyone seems to get the same idea at once, and they all go bolting out of the bedroom. Even Tramy is running, in an attempt to see if ANYONE would be able to open the jar.

Bree whips open the front door to a very angry looking officer.

“Barrow! Where in the h-”

“I’ll scrub the entirety of our barrack if you can get this jar open,” he interrupts.

Everyone goes silent.

The officer’s anger melts away into confused shock as he stares in disbelief at Bree.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Soldier.”

Someone from the group of soldiers outside pipes up. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not,” Bree says, deadly serious. “We’re not.” At that he opens the door, revealing Mare and Kilorn and Gisa and Cal and Tramy. “All of us have tried, and haven’t been able to.”

He stares at them deadpan for a moment, then launches into a giant laugh.

“What the hell, those barracks are filthy anyways,” he says with a shrug, and gives the jar a twist.

After 30 seconds of contortion in attempts to open the lid, he’s just as angry as the rest of them.

“Alright!” the officer says, turning to his unit. “Anyone who can open this jar gets out of laps for today. Except for Barrow,” he continues, spinning back around. “You’re running double no matter what.”

“I figured as much,” Bree mumbles.

The entire unit is baffled by the importance everyone is giving to this jar, but no one says anything at first.

As the jar makes its way through the ranks, through 20 or so fully-grown soldiers, it still refuses to open. The unit slowly breaks out into chaos, each failed attempt adding fuel of the fire. Everyone’s shouting, some are taking bets, others are just outright hurling insults.

“I want another try!”

“That’s not fair, you already took the longest out of all of us!”

“I did not!”

“I’m not going after him, his hands are all sweaty!”

“Why do you think you’d be able to open it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to open it?”

“Maybe because you have tiny thumbs!”

“Don’t insult my-”

“QUIET!”

Everyone stops at the sound of that voice.

Farley comes strolling up, carrying Clara in a sling close to her chest. She’s covered her ears to avoid all the shouting, but baby Clara seems amused by all the pandemonium.

“What in the hell is going on here?” she demands to no one in particular.

No one dares answer her. She turns her attention to Bree’s officer.

“Sergeant, explain to me why your unit in in such disarray. Now.”

He gulps. “Well uh- Barrow didn’t show up to his post this morning, so I came to retrieve him, but then…” he trails off, unsure of how to explain their ridiculous predicament.

Cal picks up where he left off. “You see… we were uh… trying to open this jar…” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Farley rolls her eyes, looking as pissed off as ever.

She grabs the jar from the nearest soldier and opens it without a second thought. “We’re in the middle of a revolution, I don’t have time for this.”

Everyone’s mouths drop to the floor.

She hands the jar back to the nearest soldier, then smooths down a tuft of hair in Clara’s head. Farley walks away without waiting for a response.

Gisa walks out, retrieves her jar, and heads back inside the house in silence.


End file.
